


Follow My Lead

by Emono



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Fingerfucking, Gratuitous Foreplay, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vet!Joe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: George just never thought he’d meet a Sex God at his great-grandfather’s deli.---“Who the fuck says ‘going steady’ anymore?”





	

George’s family had run a pretty successful deli/bakery downtown for three generations. Everyone worked at it at one time or another - his siblings, his aunts and uncles, his parents, and now it was mostly him and a circuit of his cousins. His dad had taken up the general manager position but he’d trained them all well enough that they didn’t need a lot of babysitting. They were all at the age where they were either wrapped up with college or internships but there was a heck of a lot of them.

 

George worked early mornings to help with the baking and manned the counter most lunches and weekends. Business was blessedly steady and the tips were nice so he didn’t have to take a second job. He could concentrate on his school work and still afford his little apartment if he picked up some tutoring hours for pocket change.

 

It was a nice, quiet little life. A little on the boring side but George had never been satisfied with anything in his life. He was always thinking of more, the next step, the grand adventure. The big picture. He had his wild friends and with them he felt truly alive. He was a loudmouth at the best of times and they fed off his energy, pouring it back twice as much until he ended up back home at three AM with a new slew of stories to tell.

 

He like the homey little deli and the regulars, the college kids, the little ones, even the nice grannies who paid him in pennies. He loved people and he loved helping his family.

 

George just never thought he’d meet a Sex God at his great-grandfather’s deli.

 

o0o0o0o

 

“You guys got wifi?”

 

It wasn’t an uncommon question. They were allowed to give it out but it was long and only for paying customers. No one really kicked up a fuss about it because their display cases were usually so gorgeous that if you hung out at one of the small tables long enough then you usually ended up buying something anyway.

 

But no one had ever asked with _that_ voice.

 

George had been leaning on the counter with his head in his arms, watching the delicate spin of the cake display (recipes straight from Grandma Luz, thank you very much), and that voice dragged him right out of his daydreams. There was a hot guy standing at the counter staring down at his phone. But he wasn’t just hot, he was downright _hellfire_.

 

This guy had a hard jawline and broad shoulders that could really give a fella something to hang on to. A leather jacket was thrown over a tight shirt that stretched across the mouth watering plain of a firm chest and thick waist. The man clearly took care of himself. He was dark and bronze and tall - a real wet dream of a man. The guy looked up and George lost his breath at the sight of those full lips and soulful eyes. He looked polished but rough like he had a quick temper.

 

But those broad-palmed hands and thick fingers...George could only imagine a man like that _holding_ and _protecting_.

 

“I need to look up something,” the Sex God clarified.

 

George hoped he wasn’t drooling and he was proud of himself for not looking over the edge of the counter to eye the man’s thighs. He was sure they were thick and glorious. “You don’t got data?” _Real smooth, Luz._

 

The man’s glare felt like a challenge and George _loved_ challenges.

 

“Paying customers only.”

 

“Makes sense,” the Sex God grunted as he pulled out his wallet. “Gimme’ one of those bagels and the password.”

 

George rung him up for one of their plain bagels and handed it over, took the cash, gave his change, and instead of telling him the password he snagged one of the business cards off the counter. Feeling cheeky and bold, George wrote out the string of numbers before blatantly putting his number just below it. He even drew a little heart before handing it over.

 

“There you go, man.”

 

“Thanks,” the Sex God said as he typed in the password without much thought. George watched in mounting anticipation as the man looked up whatever he needed to without taking a second glance at the card. He waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, but the Sex God seemed more interested in stuffing the bagel in his mouth so he could use both hands to type.

 

Then he started to leave.

 

George huffed and put his chin in his hand. It was a fun notion to consider but the man was obviously too nice and straight to either pick a fight or flirt back. He was still pretty to look at. He watched the Sex God put his back to the door to open it, fingers still working on the phone and bagel clamped between his perfect white teeth.

 

And then he looked up at him.

 

George perked up before waggling his eyebrows and throwing up the universal sign for ‘call me’. He winked and the man rolled his eyes before he walked out.

 

“Yep, I still got it.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Tall and broad and slightly-broody came back.

 

George turned around from cleaning up the back counter and there he was watching him. He slapped on a smile to hide his surprise and wiped his damp hands on his apron before heading up to the front. “Hey.”

 

“So you guys just have sweets here or can a guy get a sandwich?”

 

That voice wasn’t one someone forget. It was like gravel over velvet and he wanted to hear the way the man moaned.

 

“You making small talk with me or can’t you read?” George countered as he pointed above him. _Nice. You’re so in. Fucking smooth._

 

The Sex God backed up two steps and peered at the menu board. There was a clear display of meats on his left in juxtaposition to the sweet display on his right but still. Sex God didn’t seem stupid and he may have been blushing a little but it was hard to tell what that olive complexion. “What’s your name?”

 

The guy didn’t even look at him as he asked. George dared to think that Sex God was a tad bit _shy_. It was horribly endearing. “George. My friends just call me Luz though. Suits me better than the rest of the family.”

 

The Sex God approached the counter again and leaned his elbows on it. George watched the way the man’s biceps strained against the short sleeves and wondered how often the guy hit the gym. He looked damn good. “Luz. Just make me something to eat, alright?”

 

George dared to lean in, getting in his personal space. Up close he could see all the different shades of brown that laid in those depthless eyes. “You starving or something?”  


  
“To _death_.”

 

They held eye contact for a heavy moment before they both broke out into grins. George patted the counter. “What do you want? Got a whole deli to work with, pal.”

 

“Gimme’ that smoked turkey on this bread.” The man tapped the glass over the nine-grain bread. “Do you guys have Harvarti cheese? Shit, gimme’ that too. Spinach, guacamole, tomatoes, and olive oil vinaigrette.”

 

George wrinkled up his nose. “That sounds disgusting.”

 

The Sex God leaned harder on the counter. “And toast it.”

 

“Ack!” George stuck out his tongue. “Sure, pal, it’s your money. Whatever you want.”

 

George served up the sandwich all wrapped up in butcher paper and he thought that would be the end of it. But the Sex God got a water, paid, and took his meal to one of the small tables near the window. George smiled at how painfully normal the Sex God looked playing on his phone and nibbling away at his food, unhurried and comfortable like most customers weren’t.

 

So George cracked open a textbook and settled at the counter to try and make his gawking look like studying. The Sex God was drop dead gorgeous and so _fit_. Even when he was doing something like eating a gross sandwich was enough to make George’s skin prickle. He spent the next half hour making big gooey eyes at the man between customers. He even gave him a second water bottle on the house and the guy’s quiet ‘thanks’ and bashful little glance had George lighting up.

 

When the Sex God was finished he even cleaned up after himself before coming up to the counter. George’s brow furrowed, wondering if he had a complaint, but beamed when the man slid a twenty into the tip jar.

 

“That was some good shit, Luz.” The man fucking _winked_. “Keep it up.”

 

By the time the bell over the door chimed, George was half in love.

 

o0o

 

The next time the Sex God came into the deli and ordered the same thing, George jumped on the opportunity.

 

“Give me a name so I can label this monstrosity,” George gambled.

 

The Sex God flicked through the bills in his wallets with the hint of a smile. “Joe Toye.”

 

“The Toye,” George tested the name out with a grin. “I like it.”

 

The Sex God, Joe, smiled.

 

George nearly choked on his gum. Those fuck-me lips shouldn’t have been able to make such a cute, shy little action but yet-

 

“Fuck.”

 

Joe frowned. “Sorry?”

 

George panicked.

 

“Uh.” _You’re really fucking pretty._ “I forgot to turn off the mixer. Be right back.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

George relabeled “Sex God” as “Joe” as the man kept coming in. He’d order The Toye with one of those fond smiles and eye the pastries without ever sampling. They made small talk in the quieter times. Joe started taking the table closest to the counter so they didn’t have to talk across the room. George got the balls to meet him halfway and started sauntering over while Joe had his lunch, sometimes sitting if he was feeling particularly brave. They chatted and got to know about each other a little, mostly about food or their annoying siblings. Anecdotes between strangers to make each other laugh.

 

George was _not_ falling in love.

 

“Not really into sweets,” Joe mentioned at the counter as he slid a ten into the tip jar. George had told him a dozen times he doesn’t have to tip, especially not that heavy, but Joe had great selective hearing. “But those cookies are huge.”

 

George chuckled and tapped the display case in question. “I make these myself.”

 

“Seriously?” Joe questioned, holding up his palm for size reference on the cookies. “Damn.”

 

“I work all day here on the weekends when they need me. The rest of the week I do mornings and usually get out of here after lunch time,” George explained. “Six AM. Up before God and everyone to start mixing all the dough for the cookies here and anything else I feel like dealing with. My cousin does the bread though, sometimes he’s here before I am.”

 

Something gentle came across Joe’s face. “You and your family really do run it all, huh?”

 

“Oh yeah. Friends of the family too. We all cycle through,” George assured him. “They just demand I make these bad boys because I do it the best. My cousin Gene makes the best bread though. It all works out.”

 

Joe whipped out a five. “Give me one.”  


  
“Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist forever. What kind?”  
  
  
  
“Peanut butter.”

 

“Good choice.”

 

George put his chin in his hands and watched in fluttery anticipation as Joe took the first bite. The man’s eyes went wide in wonder before he quickly shoveled the rest of it into his mouth. George barked out a laugh and smacked the counter in victory. “Ha!”

  
  
“That was the best Goddamn cookie I’ve ever had,” Joe gruffed.

 

“Don’t sound so surprised!” George brayed gleefully. “You expected less than the best?”

 

Joe shelled out a twenty and slapped it on the counter. “Give me a dozen.”

 

“Seriously?”  
  
  
  
“Fuck yeah. And keep the change.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

George yawned into his hand as he unlocked the shop. The city was grey at six AM but when he got inside and flicked on the light he somehow felt warmer. He plopped his backpack down on one of the tables and headed over to the iPod dock on the counter. He checked to make sure it was charged before he clicked his iPod into place. He’d learned a long time ago that headphones and mixers didn’t work.  

 

_TapTapTap._

 

George nearly startled out of his skin at the sound. He whipped around, expecting the butt of a gun against the glass and a mask or a crazy grin, but instead he saw Joe. The man was bundled up in some form fitting, almost-douchey workout gear and he almost hadn’t recognized him.

 

“What the fuck?” he muttered to himself. But Joe was shuffling impatiently with a cup holder in his hands so he decided to risk it. He unlocked the door and opened it with a frown. “Hey, man.”

 

“Here,” Joe grunted as he handed the cup holder over. He took one of the coffees out of it and cradled it between his big hands. The other two in the container were a simple cup and a frappuccino with a heavy mound of whipped cream and caramel drizzle. George’s mouth watered at the sight of it. “You seem like the kind to like that overcomplicated sugar shit but I got you a double shot too.”

 

George stared down at the drinks. It was early and he was way too tired to deal with the way his heart was skipping. He looked up at Joe and he was looking as uncertain as a confidant man like Joe could look.

 

“You said you had to be here at six AM to make those kickass cookies,” Joe explained. “Thought you could use it. I was on my way to work so...this was weird, wasn’t it?”

 

“No!” George protested much too loudly. They both winced and he turned down the volume. “No, shit, Joe. This is, uh...real sweet. Thanks.” He laughed to try and defuse the air. “What the hell is open this early anyway?”

 

“Fitness Break down a couple blocks.”

 

“I knew it!” George cackled, shoving Joe a little and making the man roll his eyes. That gym was full of good looking guys and was two buildings deep. It was a pretty serious place and had all the bells and whistles. “Buff guy like you? You had to be a gym rat.”

 

“I’m a physical trainer there, is all. I’m certified to teach a couple classes.”  


“MMA?”

 

“Boxing.” Joe shrugged a little like it was no big deal but George’s imagination was already painting vivid pictures of the man sweaty and punching guys out. “Some Judo. Nothing real fancy.”

 

“I can see it,” George commented with a little pinch to the other’s arm. Joe rolled him off but he was smiling so George pushed it and winked. “Maybe I’ll come return this favor sometime.”

 

As the words left him, his mouth contorted in a grimace. Those types of guys probably weren’t the most open minded. He didn’t want to get Joe teased and he _really_ wasn’t feeling up to getting made the butt of jokes. Tough guy like Joe? There was no way he was out. _Dumpy little gay fuck like me coming around? Yeah, that kind of ridicule would chase him right the hell off._

 

But Joe’s laugh was warm and his smile went to his eyes so George couldn’t be too bitter. “I can’t let my clients see me eat. What would they think?”

 

“We _can’t_ let on that you’re human. They’d riot. There’d be fires, Joe. _Fires_.”

 

“It’s up to us to keep the peace,” Joe snickered, thumb flicking over his nose before he dug into his pocket. There was a business card there and he offered it. George took it with the secret thrill of knowing that coincidences didn’t exist and Joe must have _planned_ this. No one kept a business card in their sports jacket. A strange look passed over the man’s face and he kept his mouth shut.

 

“ ‘Frannie’s’, huh?” George read aloud, prompting Joe out of his silent contemplation. Not for the first time he wondered how often Joe got around to flirting if he was so horrifically bad and stunted at it with someone so easy going as George himself.

 

“Yeah. Your cookies were a big hit with the guys. They keep asking me to bring more. But, uh, if you ever need some car repair. It’s a garage,” Joe fumbled out, gesturing vaguely toward the card in his hand. “That’s my day job. Stop by if you need anything.” He shrugged again and George thought his faux-nonchalance was adorable. “Or if you don’t.”

 

“Yeah,” George breathed out, a smile curling his lips. “Yeah, I just might.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Frannie’s was an impressive looking place that seemed to come right out of _Fast and Furious_. That included attractive, greased up guys in various states of a jumpsuit sliding in and out of cars. George tried not to gawk as he carried a pastry box and a brown bag past the mill of workers. He was being led by Frannie herself toward one of the muscle cars that was getting a touch up. Frannie was a hell of a looker too. Raven curls, painted red lips, long calves that led to high pumps that made a guy just want to-

 

And then George’s brain short circuited.

 

Joe was standing with who Frannie greeted with a kiss as ‘Bill’. The guy looked like one of those cocky types with a strong jaw and a thick Philly accent to go with it. But George couldn’t bother to look away from Joe because _fuck_. The man had grease striped over his shoulders and thick across one arm. His jumpsuit was unzipped and bunched at the waist and his wife beater was soaked through with sweat, clinging to every curve and hugging his chest. George’s mouth watered as he saw the shadow of two dark nipples and he wondered how sensitive Joe was.

 

“George?” Joe questioned, wiping the sweat from his eyes with a filthy rag. “What are you doing here?”  


  
“Oh,” Bill drew out, shooting Frannie a grin. “ _This_ is George?”

 

“Hey,” George greeted weakly, eyes following a bead of sweat as it rolled down the man’s bare arm. “I brought, uh…”  


  
“Hey!” A redhead shouted from two cars over. “Are those the cookies?”

 

“Cookies?” A ruffled fluff of sandy blonde hair and curious eyes popped up from the other side of the car. “Oh fuck! Those look like George cookies!”

 

The redhead cupped his hands over his mouth. “Guys! There’s more George cookies!”

 

“Hey!” Bill barked. “Everyone back to work! Joe ain’t sharin’ today so shut your mouths and fix your shit.” The guys that had started to approach hung their heads and slunk back to their work stations. “Vultures, I swear.” Bill wiped off his hand on his pants leg before offering. “BIll Guarnere. I own this place.”  


George balanced the paper bag on top of the box and shook the man’s hand. “George Luz. Guess you knew that already. The cookies were that good, huh?”

 

“Hell in a fuckin’ handbasket, Luz, they were great,” Bill gushed. “Ignore Babe and Hoob over there, they’re just mad cause they don’t got no old ladies to bake for them. Well, Babe’s got a boy, but he’s working on becoming a doctor right now and he ain’t got time to cook ramen let alone bake that hungry fucker cookies.”

 

George snorted and didn’t see the way Joe looked between them with a warm smile.

 

“Well, this asshole over here one-upped me the other morning so I thought I’d get back at him.” George offered Joe the box. “Killing you with kindness, Toye. It’s all yours.”  
  
  
  
Joe took them and peered curiously inside each one, a big grin splitting his face when he saw an extra fat steak sandwich and a dozen cookies. “Fuckin’ A, Georgie.”

 

George shrugged. “I thought you’d like it. And it’s Saturday so I thought you’d be pretty busy.”

 

Bill gawked at the cookies but a quick glare and a lid-snap made him pout.

 

“Thanks.”

 

George loved that sweet tone and he hoped he wasn’t blushing. He rubbed the back of his neck and took a few steps away with an awkward smile. “So yeah, good luck with today. You boys take care of yourself. Frannie, great to meet you. Keep these brats in line?”  
  
  
  
“I always do,” Frannie hummed with a knowing little look toward Joe. “Enjoy the rest of your day, George.”

 

George shot them a finger gun before quickly retreating. He beat himself up all the way back to his bike for being such a loser but after the initial embarrassment faded he smiled to himself for the rest of his deli shift.

 

o0o0o0o

 

George didn’t expect much on a Monday. He got a little pop in the morning of people beating the sidewalk on their way to work wanting some basic coffee and pastries, maybe even a few sandwiches wrapped for later, but usually it was quiet at lunch besides the in-and-out regulars. The lobby was usually empty until dinner and he used the time to catch up on homework.

 

So when eleven rolled around and a whole gaggle of guys fought to get through the door at once, George was a little rightly surprised. There were seven of them and they were loud and they all wore matching, pleased grins like they were in on some joke. They squabbled and elbowed each other to the counter and ordered, getting sandwiches and bags of chips and sodas enough to go around. It was nothing George couldn’t easily handle but they were a little much.

 

“George!” The redhead from the garage practically jumped up on the counter. “Hey, it’s me, Babe! We met last week at Frannie’s.”  


  
“Yeah, wouldn’t call you trying to steal my cookies _meeting_ ,” George drawled teasingly.

 

Babe colored up from the tips of his ears to his throat. “Y-Yeah, guess so. But Toye talks about you all the time so the fellas and I wanted to come see what the fuss was about.” He started ticking off names and pointing at the group. “That’s Skip, Penk, Malark, Moe, Hoosier, and you saw Hoob the other day. We’re Toye’s friends.”

 

“And we’re starving,” Skip whined.

 

Hoosier, a skinny guy with a swoop of blonde hair and candy pink lips, leaned his elbows on the counter and grinned. “And we wanted to see Toye’s pretty little secret in person.”

 

George blushed, caught off guard, and Babe smacked Hoosier upside the head. “Shove it, Hoose! Fucking hell.”

 

George was still fighting off the blush and the implication as he served them up a full tray. They took the food and piled at two of the tables, barking over each other as they tried to dish out the right orders. They kept shooting him looks and grins, lowering their voices only to whisper about him (or at least he feared they were.) The group didn’t exactly make him uncomfortable but George felt a bit like an experiment, like they were testing him somehow.  

 

It was starting to get a bit too much when the door flew open, the bell clanging sharply.

 

George had never seen Joe Toye pissed off and _hell_ it was a sight. Those dark eyes were burning bright like embers, his jaw set in steel and his mouth twisted in a scowl. He was in his trainer clothes but that only highlighted the frustrated bunch of his muscles, the clench of his fists. But the glower was not aimed at George.

 

In fact, Joe didn’t look at him at all. His focus was solely on the rowdy guys who were immersed in some kind of argument over car parts. They were too busy bickering to spot Joe but the man made himself known. Joe stalked over to the nearest occupied table and slammed his palms down on the surface, the metal rattling. The conversation cut off to a dead silence. They men stared in blatant fear and George couldn’t see what Joe’s face looked like but he could imagine what kind of fury was blazing away in those eyes.

 

When Joe spoke his voice was low and halting, pointed on the enunciation to make his intent clear.

 

“Get the fuck _out_.”

 

The group gathered up what was left of their food and scurried out in the same kind of congested flurry they’d come into the deli with. George tried not to laugh but it was kind of hilarious to watch six grown men flee like they’d been caught by their mothers doing something naughty.

 

When Joe finally turned to face George his cold wrath was gone, replaced by something sheepish. He trudged up to the counter while rubbing absently at his arm, fingers catching in his sleeve to toy with it. “Hey.”

 

“Hey, Joe,” George greeted like he hadn’t just watched the man run his friends out of the shop. “Those were paying customers, you know. You my bouncer now?”

 

“They shouldn’t be bothering you at work,” Joe griped, shooting a half hearted glare at the door. “I told them not to bug you.”

 

“They weren’t that bad,” George promised, leaning on the counter and fluttering his lashes. “Your friend Hoosier hit on me.”

 

Joe’s scowl was all pearly white teeth. “Hoose is a fuckin’ sleaze and you could do better, Georgie.”

 

George shrugged like he was considering. “Maybe.”

 

He jumped when Joe’s hand shot out and snatched his hand, strong fingers curling around his own to squeeze. “You can. Trust me.”

 

“Yeah,” George croaked, watching how the man’s hand nearly swallowed his own. “Guess I can.”

 

Joe reluctantly took his hand back and tucked it in his pocket. “That’s the last time I bring them any cookies.”

 

“You’re cruel, Toye. They weren’t _that_ awful.”

 

“Fuck ‘em.” Joe shrugged with a flirty little grin. “Your cookies are just mine now.”

 

George rolled his eyes but a warmth bloomed in his belly. “Oh I guess I’ll be your secret. If you’re so determined to hide me away.”

 

“Not you,” Joe assured quickly. “This place! I don’t want them bullying their way into my favorite spot. There won’t ever be any fucking cookies left if I let them trample over here everyday.”

 

“Joe?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

George crooked a finger at him and when Joe got close enough, he caught him by the lapel and dragged him in. Joe gave a surprised grunt but didn’t pull away, merely tilted his head. “There’ll always be cookies for you. Even if I have to hand deliver them myself.”

 

Joe’s teeth caught on his lip and George wondered for the hundredth time what it would be like to kiss those lips. “Sounds like a sweet deal.”

 

“Toye-exclusive deal,” George swore, pushing him away with a wink. “Tell your buddy Hoosier to find his own cookie jar.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

It had been raining for hours. The city was slick and dark outside but the deli was warm. George didn’t work nights but his sister had come down with a head cold and he’d volunteered. There wouldn’t be a lot of foot traffic, he’d reasoned as he sent back the message on the family group chat that he’d cover. He’d brought his homework and spread it out on one of the tables, only getting up when someone came to the door.

 

George was stuck between the idea of closing up early or starting on his bullshit Art History paper when the bell above the door chimed. He pushed away from the table and stretched his arms above his head, swallowing a yawn. “Hey, fella, what can I - Joe?”

 

Joe was soaked through. His hair was plastered to his forehead and fat drops fell from his chin. He was wearing his garage gear and the jumpsuit was sticking to him, heavy khaki jacket bunched up strangely in the front like something was inside it. He looked cold and miserable all hunched over himself and he was leaving a puddle on the non-slip mat inside the door.

 

“What the hell?” George griped. “Ever heard of an umbrella?”

 

“I couldn’t hold it and him at the same time,” Joe answered vaguely.

 

“What?”

 

“Do you have any towels or something warm?” Joe asked quickly.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He got to his feet but paused when he heard a whimpering sound. “What do you got?”

 

Joe unwrapped the folds of his jacket and revealed a wet, shivering little black bundle. It was a retriever puppy, all small and trembling in the firm cradle of the man’s palms. George’s heart broke at the sight of it.

 

“Some asshole just left him out there in a fucking box,” Joe hissed, voice venomous but hands tender as he held the puppy to his chest. “I swear to fucking God, I hate people. If I ever see a motherfucker…” He trailed off as the puppy yipped.

 

George moved fast to take care of his boys. He locked up the shop, flipped the sign, and ushered Joe into the back with his precious bundle. There was a couch there that the Luz family had been meaning to throw out. He got the biggest towels he could find together and made a nest in the kitchen where it was always warmer. He dug some hothands out of the trunk his dad kept all their medical supplies in and slipped the warmers into the folds of the makeshift nest.

 

It didn’t take long to get the puppy all dried off and fluffy again. Joe had stripped out of his wet jumpsuit and jacket to towel off as best he could. George hung the man’s clothes up near the industrial oven and had stuffed some of the dough for the morning bread in it to get it steaming hot to help it dry.

 

“I’d offer you some of my jackets,” George said idly as he watched Joe shed his sopping t-shirt on the floor like an animal. He couldn’t be too annoyed when he got to see the damp, rippling muscles of Joe’s arms and that gorgeous chest. Pretty dark nipples and the solid barrel of his torso. There weren’t abs but he didn’t need him with such real, visceral strength. “But the shit I got squirreled away here won’t fit you.”

 

“I’m okay,” Joe assured him as he rubbed the towel over himself. He scratched through his damp hair with a sigh, his other hand falling to the puppy curled up in his new nest. “Poor little guy. Didn’t stand a chance out there.”

 

“God, he’s cute,” George gushed, rubbing his fingertips over the pup’s little ears. “And you just found him in a box?”

 

“Yeah, I parked down the street to grab some shit from the store and decided to come see you and there he was.”

 

George got all warm and fuzzy at the thought of Mr. Joe ‘Kickboxer’ Toye wanting to come see him in the pouring rain just for the hell of it. He smiled at the man and brushed their fingers together over the sleeping pup. “What are you going to name him?”

 

“Justice,” Joe replied easily, watching their fingers dance past one another along dark fur.

 

“Christ, you’re as adorable as him,” George chuckled. He loved the faint, rosy red that bloomed on the man’s cheeks. It was reassuring to know he could fluster a tough guy like Joe a little bit. He gazed down fondly at Justice and decided that it was now or never (or weeks from now when he had blue balls from hell).

 

“You know, since I’m helping and all, I should get visitation rights,” George offered as he got up and snagged a jar of peanut butter off one of the supply shelves. He picked up one of the tester spoons too before he flopped back down on the couch. He nudged the pup with his knuckles until he roused. “Hungry, boy?”

 

Joe watched Luz load up the spoon with peanut butter before offering it to Justice. “Visitation rights?”

 

“Justice is sorta mine too now,” George pointed out, cooing when the pup sniffed at the spoon before happily licking away at it. “See? I’m feeding him and everything.”

 

“I saved him.”  


  
“I let you in.”

 

“What, you woulda’ left us out there?”

 

George grinned. “Nah, just you.”

 

“You fuck.”

 

“ _Language_ in front of the kid, Joe.”

 

Joe pulled a face and hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I don’t think he loves you enough. You’re more like an uncle.”

 

“Oh really?” George laid the spoon on the lid of the jar before he pet gently along Justice’s muzzle. The puppy made a snuffling noise as he nuzzled into his palm, licking over it. “There we go. That’s love.”

 

“When you’re right, you’re right, I guess,” Joe gave in, grinning and showing off those perfect, sharp teeth. “You’ll have to come to my apartment, then. You know, to see him.”

 

“Yeah, yeah I guess I will,” George concedes, cock warm in his jeans as he tried not to think too hard about getting into Sex-God-turned-Joe-Toye’s apartment. “Maybe Friday?”

 

“Friday sounds good,” Joe agreed easily, trying much too hard to look casual. “We could grab some lunch maybe?”

 

“Food sounds good,” he parroted back.

 

George enjoyed Joe’s little squirm way too much. The man raked a hand over the back of his damp neck and made a show of shrugging like it wasn’t sounding more and more like a date. “There’s this horror movie I’ve been wanting to see too. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

 

George’s hand skittered past Justice and curled tentatively around Joe’s knee. They both felt a frizzle of electricity at the simple contact and they shivered but not from cold. George thought he was just imagining the moment between them but before he could back out and take his hand back, rough fingertips glided over his own. The graze of callouses against his smooth skin sent a visible flush of goosebumps up his arms. “We could make it dinner, then.”  
  
  
  
“Dinner and a movie,” Joe rumbled before he cut into a toothy grin that did all sorts of things to George’s belly. “Sounds like we’re going steady.”

 

“Joe?” George husked, leaning and squeezing the man’s knee.

 

Joe visibly swallowed and tried to play it cool. “Y-Yeah?”

 

“Who the _fuck_ says ‘going steady’ anymore?”

 

o0o

 

George knocked on the door in rapid succession. He bounced on the balls of his feet, riddled with nervous energy. The wind was cool in his still-damp hair and he hoped he had brushed his teeth well enough. He wanted everything to be perfect so he’d shaved and scrubbed and trimmed up _everywhere_. He wasn’t expecting anything but it was better to be prepared than not. He was going to go inside and see Justice, size up Joe’s apartment to make sure he wasn’t some kind of serial killer or taxidermist or something, and then they’d head out to make small talk and make eyes at each other for a couple hours. Maybe they’d even hold hands at the movie if Joe was cool with it.

 

He really should’ve seen it coming.

 

Joe’s hand was hot and heavy on his nape as he slanted his mouth across his. The kiss was open mouthed and fucking _filthy_ , the slide of their tongues sparking heat between them and sending their blood south. George moaned as his head was tilted for them to get _that_ much closer and he clung to Joe’s shirt, feet stumbling uselessly as the man moved them further into the apartment.

 

“Eager little fuck, aren’t you?” Joe muttered against his lips.

 

“First of all,” George said between waves of kisses. “You kissed _me_ while I was petting our son. Second - you’ve been cockteasing me for months with these Goddamn shirts and leather jackets and shit.”

 

Joe snorted and gave him a playful shake by the grip he had on his hip. “It hasn’t been _months_.”

 

“Four months,” George deadpanned, staring into those eyes he’d admired so much the first day they’d met. They were filling with heat and he knew he was flushed with the way his own heart was pounding.

 

“Okay, four months,” Joe conceded with a grin before throwing the other up against the wall. George let out a puff of breath when his back smacked on the plaster and the casual show of strength got him from interested chub to fully hard so fast it almost hurt. He braced his palms on the wall and bit his lip as he watched Joe approach like a predator, intent and power rippling through him with every step.

 

Yeah, definitely rock fucking hard.

 

“We really doing this?” Joe asked, skimming his hands over the other’s hips once more.

 

“What’s _this_?” George challenged, bravado returning full force. He took his hand off the wall and palmed the thick bulge in Joe’s jeans, smirking when he got the man to gasp and rock into his hand. “Cause I got a good idea what I want.”

 

He was packing some heat and George was ready to finally get what he’d been fantasizing about all this time. Getting to know Joe was going to be one hell of a journey but he was hoping for a different kind of ride for their first date.

 

And it was really nice to know this whole thing wasn’t one sided attraction-wise.

 

“Yeah?”

 

George gasped as his hands were snatched and pinned to the wall beside his head, a thigh sliding between his legs. The friction kicked up those sparks again and they both breathed into a kiss. It could’ve counted as their second kiss but already Joe’s mouth felt overly familiar. George marveled at how soft they were, how they slid against his own like they had a right to be there. Joe was all-consuming and he was getting pulled under the spell.

 

“Fucking gorgeous, Georgie.” Joe broke the kiss to drag his mouth down the front of his throat, his words and touch leaving goosebumps behind. He hiked his thigh up higher and George bit the side of his lip to keep from moaning as he rubbed against him. Joe’s thigh flexed beneath his cock and the thick bunch of muscle only turned him on more.

 

“God damn, you’re strong,” George puffed in amazement. “And that _voice_. Shit, Joe. You’re killing me.”

 

“You like that, huh?” Joe prompted with heated curiosity, getting a nod. He rubbed a hand over the front of George’s throat and the man shivered. It was a possessive move, maybe even concerning if it had come from a one night stand or someone George hadn’t seen cradle a soaking wet puppy. “You want me to tell you what I’m going to do to you?”

 

“Tell me,” George demanded. His breath hitched when Joe’s thumb rested at the crest of his throat, tapping there like a challenge before falling. He couldn’t help but love the way Joe grabbed his belt and thumbed it open like he did it all the time, like it was no big deal. Like opening a man’s belt while keeping a smoldering stare was something he did every day. It made him think that maybe Joe _was_ out.

 

Coherent thoughts became harder to string together when Joe kept talking.

  
  
“I’m going to strip you down until I can see every inch of you.” Joe thumbed open the button of his jeans and bold fingers slid down his zipper, delving inside. “You’re going to show me _everything_ , Georgie. Including this pretty cock.”

 

George sucked in a noisy breath as the man cupped him through his briefs. Callouses caught on the smooth material and he’d never wanted to rip off his own underwear so badly before. He tilted his head back obediently when Joe mouthed at his pulse. Teeth scraped over his skin and it went straight to his cock. He felt himself twitch against Joe’s palm and was so dizzy with a rush of lust that he didn’t have the brainpower to be embarrassed.

 

“I’m going to get between these thighs and eat you out,” Joe breathed against his damp skin. George smacked a hand against the wall to keep himself from fucking up against the man’s leg like a damn dog because that image sent a jolt through him that made his cock throb. “ ‘Cause I can smell the shower you took right before you got here to look all nice for me and I know you’re ready to get fucked.”

 

“Fuck yes,” George hissed. He nearly crawled up the wall as Joe’s hand slid off his dick and up his shirt, fingertips dancing across his belly and over his chest. His hips chased the feeling of his hand and Joe’s thigh was right there to rub against to create all sorts of delicious friction.

 

“I’m gonna’ play with _these_.”

 

“ _Joe_ ,” George whined as his nipple was plucked. He was never this sensitive but Joe’s hands were so _rough_ and the confidant touches were going right to his head.

 

“That’s it, babe, say my name,” Joe growled, drawing another pathetic sound out of the man when he tweaked the hard nub. “I’m going to spend all night down there if I can get you to make pretty noises like that for me. And when you’re good and desperate, I’ll finally fuck you. I’m gonna’ make it good.”

 

George’s lashes fluttered. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have Joe inside him, pinning him and fucking him nice and hard. Not when he was already wrecked from some kisses and a little heavy petting. But the image of Joe’s hips between his legs, the muscled plain of his chest, those fucking _thighs-_

 

“Fuck!” George yelped as as he way too easily picked up. He wrapped his arms and legs around Joe as fast as he could, afraid of falling, but Joe’s grin and sure hands popped his bubble of panic.

 

“You’re so high strung,” Joe chuckled lowly as he carried him away from the wall and down the hall towards what George hoped was the bedroom because he was beyond ready. George made a dramatic show of rolling his eyes but it only got him another one of those breath-stealing kisses he was getting addicted to. _How is he so fucking good at this? Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this the whole time?_

 

He puffed as he was dumped on the bed but any indignance evaporated under Joe’s heated stare. George laid back on his elbows and let his knees fall apart with a grin, a cocked brow. “You like what you see?”

 

“Fuck yes I do,” Joe swore, eyes roaming shamelessly over the other man. “You’re never going to want anyone else after I’m through with you.”

 

“Big talk,” George accused, shifting his hips to draw the man’s gaze to the prominent bulge in his jeans. He liked the hungry way Joe stared but he might’ve been biased, he liked most things about the man.

 

“You like it.”

 

“Fuck yes I do.” George grinned as he pushed himself up and grabbed Joe by the hair. He dragged the man down into a biting kiss that had them panting. “But save some of that for round two. Right now? I need you to fuck me.”

 

“Want me to open you up, Georgie?” Joe drawled. He slid a tube of lube out of the pocket of his jeans and waved it with a smug, toothy grin that bordered on predatory. George wet his lips with a nod, a new pulse of lust shooting to his cock as he realized Joe had planned this. “Then strip. Show me what’s mine.”

 

“Christ, Joe,” George husked as he started shoving off his clothes and tossing them over the edge of the bed. “If I’d known you were like this I would’ve tried to fuck you the first day I saw you.”

 

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

 

“I don’t know,” George snarked as he finally shed his boxers, unashamed and hard before the man he’d been fantasizing about all these months. He palmed himself and adored the rising flush across Joe’s cheeks. “This is pretty fun.”

 

He grinned in victory when Joe crawled on the bed with him. He slung an arm around the man’s shoulders and laid back, pulling him into a languid kiss. Their lips slid together and he felt palms drag along his thighs, his hips, tracing every curve.

 

“Fucking impatient,” Joe grumbled, thumb _just_ grazing George’s dick before he grabbed a handful of his ass. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks, how to get you here, what you’d look like…”

 

“As good as you hoped?” George asked, whining and chasing after Joe when he pulled back. The lube was uncapped and slick dribbled over those sinful fingers and he got excited all over again. He kept his legs spread in permission.

 

“Better,” Joe promised. “Lay back. You’re in good hands.”

 

George obeyed and the worried tension in his legs released as Joe continued to pet over his thighs. Joe’s expression was soft as he laid worshipful kisses across his knee and down to his thigh. Those lips looked damn good against his skin. And he was so fucking close to his cock…

 

He should’ve been embarrassed about all of it. He was naked and Joe was still fully clothed. His dick was flushed and right there beside those sharp cheekbones, the tip wet with desperate need, and he was keeping himself open like a ready whore. But _fuck_ if Joe’s touch wasn’t tender and stimulating all at once. The man gentled him like some kind of wild animal and he was falling headfirst into it.

 

“I’ll open you up just like you want, Georgie, but when I get inside you it’s going to be _my_ pace.” Joe’s fingers slid between his cheeks and the lube was already warm from his skin. George forced himself to breathe but he had nothing to worry about. Joe wasn’t nearly as harsh as his words. His slick finger was careful as it rubbed over his hole, coaxing the muscle open. Wet and warm and gentle.

 

George spread his legs wider and fisted the sheets above his head as he tried to keep himself under control. Every stroke of those sure fingers had him blushing and twitching, dripping all over his belly.

 

“That’s it, pretty boy, let me in,” Joe purred as he slid a finger inside, mouth parting in a silent moan. “God damn, you’re tight. When’s the last time someone treated you right?”  


  
“Too fuckin’ long,” George grit out, rocking up into the touch. “Been waiting on you to get your shit together, Toye.”

 

Joe slid in a second finger too soon. George bit back a whine as he finally felt the stretch and burn. He couldn’t stop the little cry that flew out of his mouth and he bore down which only made him feel fuller. Joe’s pleased growl sizzled across his nerves and then the bastard crooked his fingers just _right_ and rubbed over his prostate. It sent electric fire up through him like a current and he jerked across the sheets. George whimpered and squirmed for more, for less, his body a tangled mess of sensation. Joe curled a loose fist around his cock and his eyes rolled back as the man’s fingers worked inside him. It ached, he couldn’t get around that. It had been a while since he fingered himself. There was plenty of lube so it didn’t _hurt_ but fuck if it wasn’t _intense_.

 

George felt the tears gathering in his lashes and Joe’s movements slowed.

 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Joe crooned as he rubbed over his belly.

 

“God fucking yes,” George panted, glaring up at the man that was melting his brain. “And if you stop I’m going to throat punch you.”

 

“That’s my boy.” Joe’s chuckle was dirty and it had his heart jumping. “You take it so well, Georgie. You gonna’ take my cock this good?”

 

George’s breath stuttered. “Y-Yeah, yeah, promise.”

 

“Yeah you will.” Joe eased his fingers out and reslicked them, easing them back in while teasing a third along the wet rim. “You’re going to be so fucking good for me, Georgie. You open up so nice for me, don’t you? Fucking pretty all over. Ready for another?”

 

George nodded and hissed through his teeth as he felt the third finger slide inside. His mouth dropped open and he swore he was getting split open. But fuck if he didn’t love it.

 

“That’s it.” Joe sounded as wrecked as he felt. “You’re gonna’ need it, babe. I’m not the easiest guy to take.”

 

George snorted, fingers twisting harder in the bedding. “You’re so full of yourself, Toye.”

 

“You’re gonna’ be full of me here in a minute.”

 

“Joe!” George laughed breathlessly. He got a wink and then they were both laughing. “You dickhead. Way to kill the - _oh_.” His hips shot off the bed as his sweet spot was rubbed over, choking at the fullness and the heavy thrust that he felt all the way to the tips of his fingers. “Fuckin’ hell. Get naked already!”

 

“Yeah?” Joe teased.

 

George sat up on his elbow and ran a hand down the man’s chest, sweat dampening his shirt in the trails his fingers left behind. “You haven’t been the only one thinking about this. Clothes off, Toye.”

 

Joe openly moaned and pressed a wet kiss to the inside of his thigh as he slid his fingers out. “Yes, sir.”

 

 _I’m going to get fucked by the Sex God_ , George marveled as Joe got off the bed and stripped off his shirt. He looked just as good shirtless as he’d fantasized about. The dip of his collarbone, the mouth-watering curve of his pecs, the solid muscle of his stomach leading to the deep lines of his hips that disappeared into the hem of his jeans. George couldn’t wait to see those fat thighs, the meat of his perfect ass, his _cock_.

 

Joe started on his jeans as he looked his own fill, teeth scraping over his lip in obvious need. George squirmed on the bed and couldn’t stop staring. He was finally going to get his Sex God with that husky whiskey voice and those fit arms with the broad shoulders that could hold him _and_ the world up against the wall for a good fuck. It was such a good fucking day to be George Luz.

 

Joe started to shuck off his pants and George sat up further, ready to take in every inch. He had been ready to blow his load just from getting fingered and listening to that voice doling out filthy promises. He watched the play of muscle under golden skin as Joe bent over to shuck his jeans, shoes, and socks.

 

George quickly shed his own when he realized he still had them on. _Nothing stupider than getting fucked in your - what the hell is that?_

 

Joe had mentioned being in the military but had always been vague on the details. When he talked about his career it was always about Frannie’s or his gym clients, about maybe going to technical school and get a specialized degree to help the garage out more. He’d glazed over his military past with dismissive wave and the term ‘honorably discharged’ like it could’ve been anything.

 

And now George knew.

 

“ _Oh_.” He hadn't meant to make the sound no matter how quiet it was. He just hadn’t been expecting to see the sleek silver and black calf or the harness that wrapped securely around his knee. It took him a few long moments to process exactly what he was seeing and then it all clicked. He’d never seen a prosthetic in person before and never one that mimicked the actual shape of a leg. When he’d seen pictures it was always stripped down to the bare metal. Joe’s was kickass and the silver plates were shiny against the matte black.     


George didn’t realize until it was too late that Joe was visibly bristling. “Fuck. Go on, say it. Start the bullshit.”

 

George frowned, his brain still a pile of mush. “What?”

  
“I thought you were going to be different, Luz, but you’re just like the others,” Joe scowled, arms crossed over his chest without an ounce of shame in either his leg or the proud line of his cock tenting his boxerbriefs. “Start with the doubts already. I’ve heard it all before.”

 

George frowned but the man kept going, working himself up.

 

“Everyone wants to treat me gentle because they think I’m weak over _this_.” He kicked his prosthetic against the bedframe. “They think I’m fucking fragile.”

 

“I didn’t-”

 

“Don’t treat me different just cause of this!” Joe barked defensively, shoulders hunching. “You don’t know a Goddamn thing about what I can do.”

 

“Joe-”

 

Joe prowled onto the bed and easily pinned George by the shoulder, hovering over him. His prosthetic moved fluidly and it would’ve been cool to watch if Joe’s eyes weren’t burning him alive. “You think I can’t fuck that sweet ass raw because of _this_?”

 

George keened when the man dragged their hips together. His hands fluttered uselessly up Joe’s arms before clamping down on his shoulders. “Christ, Joe, I was just gonna’ ask if you wanted me face down or not.”  
  
  


It was half a joke but Joe could see the sincerity in George’s eyes. The way he touched him, the way he was still hard and didn’t flinch when he covered him...he knew George didn’t think less of him. Those old fears were doused and another smirk curled his full lips.

 

“Sorry, Georgie,” he murmured, one hand curling below the swell of the man’s thigh while the other lightly thumbed up his hard cock. “You stay right where you are. I wanna’ see that pretty face when you start crying again.”

 

George’s heart jumped hopefully. “Gonna’ fuck me that good, huh?”

 

Shivered wracked through him as Joe slid his hands up his thighs to cup his ass. “Georgie, baby, I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna’ have.”

 

“Prove it,” George challenged, hooking a leg around the man and grinding up against him. “You promised me a lot of things, Joe Toye. Better start backing up that fuckin’ gorgeous mouth.”

 

Joe slid off the bed but grabbed George by the hips to drag him with him. George gaped as the man slid to his knees and then pushed his legs apart, spreading him obscenely wide to his gaze. “You want my mouth?”  


  
“Fuck yes.”

 

“Let’s see how filthy I can make you.”

 

o0o

 

A couple hours later when the passion had cooled and Joe had wiped them both down and they could form thoughts again, the world was lovely and quiet.

 

George was laid out on his stomach with the other man’s pillow tucked into his arms. He breathed in the smell of him as he rested his cheek on it. He’d come twice and was feeling warm and fuzzy in all the right places. He felt like he could sleep for days.

 

Joe was tucked beside him propped up on an elbow and gazing down at him. Joe’s hand was rubbing up and down his back, fingers tracing the knobs of his spine and the curve of his waist. It was a tender, loving touch. George managed to turn his head so he could look up at the man and his expression matched his touch. All the possessive, lusty fire from earlier had burned out and the embers were loving.

 

It was a relief to know his feelings were returned and this wasn’t a one time thing.

 

“Hey.” He sounded rough even to his own ears.  
  
  


“Georgie,” Joe hummed, thumb sweeping along the dip of his back. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Did I tell you that?”

 

“Maybe once or twice,” George teased lightly before changing his tone. “Joe, just want you to know...I don’t care about your leg.” The man stiffened but didn’t pull away. “It’s just another part of you. It doesn’t mean you can’t do stuff. Hell, I can barely think right now, cause you fucked me stupid.”

 

They both grinned at that.

 

“Told you I would,” Joe shot back.

 

“I think I’m going to need more proof.”

 

Joe sat up, eager like he’d teased George about being earlier. “Round three?”

 

“Whoa there, Romeo,” George drawled. “You get me some food and then we’ll talk about round three. I was promised a date. Dinner _and_ a movie.”

 

“I can order pizza and I’ve got Hulu?”

 

“Good enough for me.”

  
  
  



End file.
